


A Lucky Penny

by ThePieIsALie



Series: In the Shadows of London [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed Spoilers, Assassins vs. Templars, Blighters - Freeform, Flirting, Fluff, Gangs, London, Protective Jacob Frye, Rooks - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9387005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePieIsALie/pseuds/ThePieIsALie
Summary: 1868- The slums of London. Penny Devitt is desperately trying to keep herself and her little brother alive, but her current environment allows for little change. Then, Penny and her brother Charley are swept up into the world of Blighters, Templars, Rooks and Assassins.Note: I do try to follow the game as closely as possible and keep things canon.(Written in first person, but you could switch out the names for your own)





	1. London is Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny meets the first half of the Frye twins

Welcome to Whitechapel, where everything smells of piss and shit. The people here live off of low wages and spite mostly. I tried so hard to keep out of the factories that lined its borders. To keep my brother and I safe. I'd heard of parents who could no longer afford to feed their children, so they'd send 'em off to factories, where they'd work for meager wages, enough to keep them surviving, but not enough to let them live. More troubling stories I'd heard about these factories (fed by child labor) were the stories about a gang I knew as the Blighters who'd take children and force them to work. Most of them were orphans. So I was cautious, as my mum was dead and my pa was in some tavern getting pissed. So, I'd consider Charley and I orphans and prime targets for the gang's factories. 

As such I became fiercely protective of Charley and insisted he remain in our shack, or with Clara O'Dea. Sharp as a whip that one and a bit of a church-bell. During my days, I'd head to the boarders of the slums, to the train tracks and hide behind some crates to wait for some unsuspecting train. 

Alright, yes, I was a thief. 

Most thieves find it easier to pickpocket, but I thought it was a fine way to get caught by coppers or to get tackled by some good Samaritan who thinks they're doing good by saving some rich fop's pennies and preventing the poor to eat a meal that night. So, I went after trains. When a train got close enough, I'd do a quick check for baddies. I can't really describe how I can see 'em but the vision helps me see where they are, where the goods are and how I can sneak past 'em 'cause I can't fight for shit. When the train gets close enough, I swing myself up to the platform by the entryway and concentrate my vision, watching as it sweeps the room into a colorless grey world. There are three baddies, one leaning against some crates at the far end of the room. Shouldn't be a problem. Two more where having a conversation. I eavesdropped for a few seconds while observing their movements.

"Kaylock lost his train."

The other baddie snorted. "And his life."

"Who has the train now?" The first man said.

"Two assassins. Frye, I think."

When I was satisfied their backs would be turned long enough for me to get the goods, I crept over to the chest and with practiced ease, pulled the lid open. I grabbed all the loot and pushed it to the bottom of the satchel resting at my hip. As I make my way to the end of the train car, I begin to hear panicked voices as the realize the loot has been taken.

"You tellin me non of you half-rats were doin your dammed jobs?" 

Ah. I'd decided I'd better back slang it and sneak out. As I make my way back into the slums I see men and women with their shoulders hunched, burdened with inhumain work hours and children scampering around with bare feet, brick dust coating everything like a never-ending winter.

Home sweet home, right?

A small figure barrels into me and I let out a small 'oof' as all the air is temporarily knocked out of my stomach. 

"Charley", I scold, "You know you're supposed to stay with Clara or in the shack."

"I know, but I saw you comin down and- I'm fine." He protests gazing at me with large dark eyes, shimmering like a beetle's wing. "Did ya get anything?" He asks, the t-h in 'anything' coming out as an f.

I nodded and patted the full satchel I sported. It's enough to fill our bellies for the night. We spend the satchel's contents and retire to bed. Bed being a pile of dirty blankets and a straw pallet. Still, better then most, I guess. Charley curls up to me and falls asleep, while I stare at the ceiling. I can never seem to fall asleep. Too busy worrying I suppose. What if I can't get enough tomorrow? What if Charley gets himself into trouble. What if either of us get sick? Worst of all though, what if I can't protect him? When I do eventually fall asleep it's only after I've stabbed these thoughts right in their troublesome guts. 

 

New day, new train. The haul today was a good one. Enough that I can buy Charley a present perhaps. Or two days worth of food. Haven't decided yet. The luxury of money and oh how I envy the rich. I duck my head under the door frame of our shack and call out for Charley, eager to show him my cornucopia.

Only Charley isn't responding. Panic sets in my gut, and I begin to search for him. 

"Miss!" A voice calls out behind me. It's one of Clara's urchins. I turn around and grab his shoulders. "Charley and a few more of us were taken by Blighters this afternoon. You have to help em!" He points to one of the factories to the east and I begin to run towards it. It's a monster of a building, I realize. I'll have to sneak in carefully. I enter through one of the top windows and search for Charley. I move behind cover to cover, when I hear a soft whizzing noise fly by my ear. I look around and see a woman, with dark brown hair, crouched behind the cover I had just deserted. The whizzing noise, I realize, is a throwing knife, and it has just reached its target. A Blighter falls to his knees and I move out of the way before the woman I just saw kill someone has enough time to throw a knife at me too. As I observe her I realize she isn't killing just anyone, and is exclusively targeting Blighters. What's more is she's just freed Charley and the other children he was working with. 

Charley looks at her approvingly. "I like your style lady" he tells the brunette woman. "Like my sister, only without the knives." The woman smiles and ruffles his hair, as green clothed gang members storm the factory, checking up on the children. 

I decided it's time to step out of my cover. The woman sees me and her eyebrows raise. "Penny!" Charley shouts, circling his skinny arms around my waist.

"You were here the whole time, sneaking?" The woman asks. I only give a nod. She looks middle class at least, and I don't want to step anywhere I shouldn't. Even though, she was the one with the knives and the, well, murder. She smiles at my nod and stretches her hand out.

"Evie Frye" She says her blue eyes twinkling like the Thames when the sun hits it just right.

"Penny Devitt" I say, hoping I sound as clever as she does. "This is Charley" I add. 

"Well Penny, I have someone I'd like for you to meet, if you don't mind." And Evie sets up a brisk pace towards the train tracks.


	2. The Dance Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny meets the other half of the formidable Frye twins. Some sort of flirting ensues.

"I think I've stolen from this train before..." I mutter tracing my fingers over the wooden paneling of Evie's train. 

"Not while we had it, I hope" A smooth voice from behind me says. I turn on my heels and see a man, early twenties, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes that are actually more green then hazel. "Jacob Frye" he says extending his hand. It's a firm handshake, the kind you get naturally with a healthy dose of confidence. 

"Evie's brother I presume?" I already know the answer, but I don't want him to leave the room quite yet. He doesn't and instead flops on a couch pressed up against the wall. 

"You presume correctly" He says with a grin. I think he might be teasing me. From the next car over, Evie enters the room with another man, dressed in the same type of robes as the twins. I'm beginning to wonder if I've stumbled upon some sort of sneaky cult. 

Penny, Jacob. Glad to see you've met. Hen-" Evie stumbles over her words "Mr. Green and I will be investigating some new leads, and as I know you are not the best with stealth Jacob,"

"Oi!-"

"I thought you might need some help. Penny and I met during my attempt to free a factory, and I assure you, she'll be an asset."

"Alright then" Jacob stands up and and claps his hands once. "Ready to kill some Blighters?" He asks me.

"I can't fight" I say bluntly, and Jacob looks to Evie for confirmation.

"Jacob were you not listening to me? I said it's a stealth mission. No unnecessary killings!" Evie sighs.

"Well, then perhaps you should go."

"Mr. Green and I have...other matters to attend to" Evie says, and then skillfully changes the subject by adding "Penny, I have something for you." She hands me a pile of soft black clothing. I realize it's the same robes that Evie, Jacob and Henry wear, and the fabric has been washed and worn so often the fabric is soft and comfortable.

"I thought they might be easier to wear then your current clothing" She says. "You can keep it, I don't ever wear it anymore." I thank her and go put in on. It fits wonderfully, and I wonder if I could eventually add a few personal touches to it. "Evie, what about Charley?" 

"Oh, I've already arranged that Charley spend the day with Clara and a few of the little Rooks."

"You work with Clara?"

"Bricky girl" Jacob comments as he walks into the room "runs a hard bargain too." He looks up and I see his eyebrows shoot up a fraction of an inch.

"You look very nice." He finally says.

"I feel much nicer too" I say laughing. "I haven't been able to get the slum dust off of me since I was a girl." 

Henry and Evie walk us to our carriage and just before Jacob spurs the horses on Evie calls out "Jacob! Don't wreak havoc on England's economy today, and please be careful!"

"That was you?" I ask

He looks at me surprised "Even you knew about that?"

I laugh "It's the poor people who sell the newspapers, you twat. You don't need money to stay informed."

Jacob actually smiles at my insult and I decide to press forward. " And I'm assuming Evie was the one to salvage it for you?" 

"You assume right." He admits.

"That's brilliant. It was the funniest thing I've ever heard of, the rich tots worrying about money." I sigh and I feel the smile drop from my face. "They knew what it felt like for a few days."

Jacob puts a hand on my thigh, a gesture of comfort, and I feel a blush creep up. "Stick with me and you'll be rich after this mission."

"Speaking of, what exactly is this mission?" I'm still curious.

"The Blighters have taken a few of the Rooks and some documents. I'll can handle the Rooks if you get the documents. I won't be far away if you happen to find yourself in trouble." Jacob stops the carriage several meters before the Blighters so we can get to the roofs. I spot an open window and the documents and flip on my vision. The bottom floor is crawling with them, so I'll most certainly be avoiding that area. The second floor only has two, but the way to the stairs is shadowed by crates, and I can slip past them. The third floor is where the documents are, and only one man is guarding it, so I figure it's an easy job.

And it is, until I get to the third floor where I realize there is no cover and the guard won't move away from the documents. I step behind him as quietly as possible and then wrap my arms around his neck and face like Evie taught me until he stops moving. Surely, that won't work if I ever get caught in a fight, but I have the documents now. 

I'm slipping the documents in my pocket when I hear the sounds of running footsteps and gunshots, and it's coming closer. Quickly I slip into a nearby cupboard. It's just enough for me to stand up straight in and peek out the adjoining curtains.  
There are tendrils of smoke curling up from the stairway and a broad figure comes barreling up the stairs and slips into my hiding spot.

It's Jacob, Thank God, but we are uncomfortably close, enough for me to smell the gunpowder and sweat on him. 

"Jacob! What the hell?" I whisper.

"Unplanned consequences" He whispers back.

"The Rooks?"

"Fine. The documents?" 

I nod.

"Excellent. Shall we go?"

We hop out the window just as a Blighter sees us and he shouts out in alarm. Jacob and I clamber up into the carriage and he starts driving a breakneck speeds. My hair is whipping around my face and I have to shout to be heard.

"Jacob, Evie is going to be mad" 

"Why?" He asks, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"We were absolutely not stealthy." I laugh

"I know, what a shame, Evie had such high hopes for you."

I punch him on the arm. "Arse."

 

That night, Charley is curled up next to me, as per usual, only we're both sleeping on a feather mattress, and when I look to my left I see a purse of coins waiting to be spent.

"Penny? I like it here. I don't want to leave."

"Me too Charley. Me too." I whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyy, new chapter! Thanks for reading! Keep in mind I do upload very irregularly, but I'm not planning on abandoning this story.
> 
> Also, every chapter is named after one of the songs from the Syndicate soundtrack.


	3. The Churning Seas of London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny learns some things about the Assassins and Templars. Also, cheesy romance.

“You look like a respectable young lad” Jacob says to Charley, who is wearing Jacob’s top hat.

“I don’t want to be a respectable lad” Charley protests. “I want to be a gang leader, like you!” he declares.

Jacob grins and pats Charley on the back. “I doubt your sister would approve.” Charley frowns and mutters “Bollocks.”

I step out from the door frame and say “If you’re curious Charley, just ask.”

“Can I be a gang leader, please?” Charley gives me puppy eyes, in an effort to persuade me.

“No.”

Jacob gives a _‘see how we must deal with these dream crushing older sisters?’_ look to Charley and plucks his hat from Charley’s head. I notice that Charley has begun to style his hair like Jacob’s.

Growing up in Whitechapel, it was not at all uncommon to have absentee or dead parents, and Charley never complained but I see that Jacob is quickly becoming a father figure to Charley, and I wonder if Jacob knows it.

“Ready to go?” Jacob asks me.

Charley perks up. “Can I join too?”

I haven’t the foggiest of where we will be going so I look to Jacob, who is no help at all. He gives a shrug, ultimately leaving the decision to me.

“Is it dangerous?” I question. “

Not for you two.” He replies and then vaults out of the moving train like someone trying to avoid an awkward conversation.

Charley looks at me expectantly, and I gesture towards the open door. It takes me a few steps to regain my balance and Charley lands on his hands and feet, and begins to pick out pebbles lightly embedded in his palms.

Both of us are no strangers to having to jump off a moving train, especially when we are not technically supposed to be there and the bobbies are after us.

Jacob leads us to one of the busier streets in the borough and gestures at the crowd of people “The churning seas of London.” he declares. We make our way through the busy borough until we eventually come across some sort of underground location.

The air is thick and stale with smoke and sweat and there are two men in a makeshift ring fighting each other.

“Really Jacob?” I whisper. “A fight club?”

“It won’t be dangerous for you and Charley.” He reminded me.

“Bollocks. You just wanted to show off.” I accuse.

He feigns hurt and places a hand over his heart in mock pain. “I doubt I shall ever recover from such an accusation.” he groans.

My eyes adjust more to the dim light and I see a few men leering at me. Instinctively I pull Charley towards me. Sensing my discomfort, Jacob throws his arm around my shoulders, remaining polite but demonstrating we were not to be touched. A man wearing a top hat who seems to be the owner calls out to Jacob.

“M’lord!” he greets. When he sees me he says ‘M’lady.’ Never, ever in my whole life have I been referred to as a ‘Lady’ and I unwittingly blush.

“I’m glad you’re here!” he says to Jacob. “I was beginning to get bored” Jacob makes a few introductions. “Penny this is Robert Topping, and this little man is her brother, Charley.”

“Best bookie in all of London.” Robert declares. “Well, second best but me mum says Donald is a bit of a nincompoop.” At this Charley giggles.

Robert turns to Jacob. “Well, into the ring with you!” Robert ushers and Jacob strips his upper layers and throws them at me. They’re all warm and they smell of him. Jacob steps into the ring and rolls his shoulders, looking unbearably masculine. You can practically smell the testosterone wafting off of him. He has a few tattoos. I see the shape of a Rook on his chest and what looks like some sort of cross on his upper arm.

I don’t have time to wonder what it means however because the first fighter comes charging over the barrier at at Jacob. My heart begins to beat as he dodges the punches and lands a good one on the jaw of his opponent.

A second man charges through and comes at Jacob, but the new fighter bides his time and move into a defensive stance. Jacob considers this for a split second before unceremoniously head butting the man and twisting his arm behind his back. Jacob looks up to meet my eyes and gives me a wink.

Cheeky sod.

By the time the second round has been won by Jacob, I begin to get really into it, cheering him on profusely. “Give ‘em a good batty-fang!” I shout as Jacob narrowly misses a punch. I see that quite a few people have placed their bets on Jacob and a sense of pride fills me. Charley is cheering too but his shouts are drowned out and incoherent.

“I hope to be like you when I grow up!” Robert shouts. What an odd man.

When Jacob wins, Robert walks up and they thrust their hands in the air. For the fight, Jacob wins a fair amount of coin. We make our way back to a nearby station and wait for the Frye's train.

When we get on, Charley runs off to find some poor sod to recount all of the day's adventures. 

“I can teach you how to fight if you want.” Jacob says from behind me. “I saw you admiring my skills in the club. Unless it was something else you were admiring.” he teases and his voice gets husky.

“I-I wasn’t…” I stutter but Jacob interrupts me with an abrupt kiss. My whole body tenses up and then suddenly relaxes and I feel weak in the knees. Jacob’s hands move to steady me and he gently bites my lower lip.

A wave of euphoric bliss washes over me and I realize I’ve been in love with Jacob since the moment I saw him. I tangle my fingers in his hair and accidentally knock his hat off but neither of us makes a move to retrieve it.

We break apart eventually when one of us has to get air but Jacob doesn’t remove his hand from my waist and I don’t move mine from his hair. So we stay like that, our foreheads touching and just looking at each other.

“I know you can protect yourself and Charley” Jacob is the first to speak “But I want to be there for you, always. I want to protect you both.”

I give a small agreeing nod. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” I whisper.

“It won’t be.” Jacob kisses me again, softer this time but just as passionate.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“A head shot is always potent and will kill your enemy in one throw.” Evie instructs. “It’s almost like skipping a stone across a pond.”

I nod and take a deep breath and swing the blade at the wall. It doesn't even stick and falls to the floor with a dull metallic clang. Evie and I are quiet for a few moments before she starts to giggle. It’s an infectious laugh, the kind the laugh is funnier than the actual joke.

Eventually Evie sobers up, and tells me i’ll eventually succeed. “Jacob and I have something to tell you.” She says.

Ominous.

Jacob is sitting in his traditional spot on the couch and pulls me down next to him. Evie remains standing.

“Jacob and I are not just gang leaders.” Evie begins.

Jacob leans over to me and whispers “Prepare for the history lesson.”

Evie ignores him. “There are two secret factions, that have been warring for thousands of years. One faction that fights for peace through control, and the other that fights for peace through freedom.”

The latter sounds better to me.

“The faction that fights for peace through control are known as the Templar order. The faction that fights for peace through freedom is known as the Assassin Brotherhood. Currently, the man who is head of the Templars is Crawford Starrick, who is holding London in his grip.”

“Crawford Starrick? The man behind Starrick’s Soothing Syrup?” I ask. Evie nods.

“The Blighters are backed by the Templars and the Rooks-”

“Are backed by the Assassins.” I finish for her. It’s all clicking into place now. “How many assassins are in London?”

Jacob shakes his head. “Not many.”

Evie continues “The Assassins are looking for ‘Pieces of Eden’ left a very ancient but advanced civilization, and we believe there is one in London. The only downside is Starrick is looking for it too. We’re getting close though.” She insists. 

“Do all assassins wear your bracers?”

Jacob nods, unsheathing the blade and looking at it fondly. “We call ‘em hidden blades.”

“All Assassins follow a Creed. A Creed that forbids us from taking the life of an innocent, to never put the Brotherhood in danger and to hide in plain sight. Something you are very good at.” Evie states.

“Are you asking me to become an Assassin?” I ask.

“Only if that’s what you want, love” Jacob tells me.

“Then why tell me?” I inquired.

“Jacob and I had decided that if either of us got into a relationship and wanted it to progress, we would tell that person. It would be unfair to the person, should they not know.” Evie states.

“Then, does Henry know about the Assassins?”

Evie shifts uncomfortably. “Henry is an Assassin.”

“Greenie just isn't fond of field work” Jacob laughs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god the cheese. I almost feel bad.


	4. Too Dreadful a Practice for This Open Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny gets mentored by the unstoppable Frye twins. See them nightly at Covet Garden!
> 
> And, Penny and Jacob take Mrs. Disraeli out for a walk in Devil's acre.

 

 

I carefully line up the throwing knife with my target, biding my time until I am certain he’ll stand still long enough for me to throw it.

It hits him square in the face but he groans and stands still before crumpling to the ground, so for a second I thought I’d missed and the whole mission ruined. 

The mission is a kidnapping, and I’m supposed to be clearing an escape route without drawing attention to myself. I yank my victim by his ankles and hide him in the bushes.

Then I use what Jacob and Evie call my ‘Eagle Vision’ a sort of sixth sense if you will, to check for anymore men. Once I am satisfied I give the go ahead to Evie.

She sneaks up behind our target, a Templar who is pouring over his maps, probably cooking up some nefarious Templar plan.

At the last second he whirls around, but Evie reacts quickly, landing a punch on his jaw and twisting his arm behind his back. He yells a string of incoherent curses and sentences and the only thing I hear properly is him referring to us as ‘hooded reprobates.’ 

Evie twists his arm and whispers “I don’t want to hurt you.” But her look combined with the twisting of his arm says ‘But I will.’

We exit the area rather peacefully, all things considered, and she shoves the Templar into a waiting carriage and takes the reins. The Templar in the back begins to shout and Evie spurs on our horse, eager to get ahead of any do-gooder Blighters who might engage in a futile chase. 

We get to the drop off area, where Frederick Abberline is waiting for us. Freddy happens to be the only bobbie I like, and is an ally to the twins.

“London will be safer with this one behind bars” He tells us, and then drives the screaming Templar off. 

On our way back, Evie and I cut through alleys and go around the rooftops, although I’m a far slower climber then she is. At one point Evie stops and stoops to pick a book that has been left in a back alley inside a crate of empty bottles. I can’t imagine what she wants it for, but she flips through the pages and finds a pressed flower between one of the pages. 

“It’s for Henry. He’s asked me to look for some if I had the time.” She says, noticing my confused expression. 

“Henry has asked you to look for pressed flowers?” I’m still confused.

“It’s a hobby of his.” She says it almost defensively. 

“Tosh.” I scoff. “It’s probably his way of giving you flowers.”

Evie arches her head and gets a half smile on her face. “I doubt it” She says skeptically. 

“Seems a letter has come for Jacob” Evie says when we enter the train.

“I’ll look at it later. Penny! I’ve been looking for you” Jacob comes out and grabs my hand. “I want to take you somewhere.” 

The place Jacob is referring to is a large smoke stack with a wagon of hay at the bottom. 

“Today’s lesson” He announces, “Leaps of Faith, essential to every Assassin.”

“Absolutely not. Are you mad?”

“Only little. Trust me, it’s generally very safe.”

“Generally?” 

“Watch, I’ll demonstrate.” He says, and ziplines to the top of the stack. Then he steps off the ledge and falls gracefully into the hay. He doesn’t emerge for several seconds, and I run over, leaning in to look for him. His head pops out of the hay and he kisses me. 

“See, perfectly safe.” Jacob pauses. “I have a favor to ask you.” 

“Well, you’re going to have to tell me what this favor is before I agree to anything.” I say.

He hops out of the hay wagon. “Smart choice. I’m taking the Prime Minister’s wife out to Devil’s Acre, and I was wondering if you would join me?”

“Mm, sounds romantic. The worst slum in all of London and a third partly.” I tease. 

He gives me a pleading look. “Fine. You owe me.” I eventually tell him.

“Of course”

  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


“Madam.” Jacob greets the Prime Minister’s wife.

“Mr. Frye.” Mrs. Disraeli greets, just as cordially. 

“This is Penny Devitt, she’ll be joining us tonight” Jacob introduces me, and I’m not sure what to do so I attempt a curtsey but I can tell it looks terrible so I get up and wiggle my fingers in a half hearted wave. Mrs. Disraeli giggles.

“I’m afraid I must cancel our engagement.” She says apologetically. “The lawn is crawling with scandal hunting journalists and I simply cannot be seen in company of people so… “

Jacob halts her before she can continue and I feel a sense of relief. I had no desire to hear the rest of her sentence. “I’ll see them off.” and I give Jacob a sharp look that says _ ‘you will?’  _

“You follow along when it’s clear” he says with a grin, like this is the best idea he’s ever had. 

“Yes, yes” Mrs. Disraeli says, and as Jacob leaves she calls out “Be gentle, won’t you! The press are notoriously touchy about any harm to their person.” 

Jacob gives a false short laugh “I’ll barely ruffle a hair on their heads” he says and goes to pet the dog Mrs. Disraeli  is carrying.  It’s the kind of dog that would last a week in the slums before it turned into food. But I suppose I shouldn't tell Mrs. Disraeli.

The dog barks loudly and Mrs. Disraeli hushes it. “Shh, Desmond.”

Jacob ventures off to distract the journalists and I’m suddenly left alone with Mrs. Disraeli. 

“Do you know of Devil’s Acre?” she asks me.

“Only by reputation. Ma’am.” I add as an afterthought. “I grew up in Whitechapel.”

“Ah. How...delightful. And how long have you and Jacob been courting?” She questioned. 

“I-what?”

“Both of you have the look of love in your eyes and Mr. Frye keeps looking at you when he thinks you are not looking.”

Thankfully, at that moment, Jacob runs by, followed by a trail of journalists all shouting things about theater and plays. 

“We should be ready to go soon Madam” I tell Mrs. Disraeli, and wait for Jacob by the the Disraeli’s carriage. 

“Nicely done young man. Dizzy ought to keep on to deal with the Liberals.” Mrs Disraeli laughs at her joke. Who the liberals are, and what they’ve done to Dizzy, I have no clue. “Now, a drive is in order, I think.”

Jacob and I board the carriage where he holds the reins with one hand and grips my thigh with the other. Jacob, the cheeky twat he is, begins to inch his fingers further up and I hope that the carriage is going fast enough that no one can see what we are about to do, right in the open air. He reaches the waistband of my pants and then I hear

“The Prime Minister’s wife is in that cart!” It’s a group of reporters, who somehow managed to see Mrs. Disraeli, tucked away in the carriage.

“Damn” Jacob mutters

“I really must not be seen here, Mr. Frye!” Mrs. Disraeli yelps from the back. Eventually we manage to lose the reporters and we pull up to what is generally considered as one of the most dangerous areas of London. 

I never, ever thought that I would purposely come here, but here I am, escorting a rich woman, no less.  _ ‘You owe me, Jacob.’  _ I think to myself.  

“Oooh, what a rough place.” Mrs. Disraeli shivers as we enter. “Give me your arm, Mr. Frye.” And like a proper gentleman, Jacob obliges. Jacob looks so regal, escorting Mrs. Disraeli, who is wearing a dress more expensive than anything I could steal in my lifetime, and I’m almost a little jealous of her. “Let us see what the Devil's Acre has to offer.” she crows. 

Orphans, death, bad food, sickness and dysfunctional families mostly. 

“Jacob, if any thugs see us, they will attack. We need to be very careful not to attract any attention.” I whisper, so Mrs. Disraeli can’t hear us. 

Mrs. Disraeli’s dog begins to bark, quite loudly, like a living alarm bell.  “Is your dog quite alright?” Jacob asks.

“Oh, Desmond's fine. He’s just not over fond of people. Or cats.” 

I decide to scout ahead to look out for any thugs and I see a few. How strange that I am now actively seeking out thugs, where as before I would have done everything to avoid confrontation. I crept behind one pulling him into the nearby house. 

“What the- who’re you?” He yelps.

I shush him and knock him out. Then I scale the walls to the rooftops. I hear Mrs. Disraeli speaking to Jacob and pointing to a nearby fruit merchant.  “Did you know this gentleman is a… oh what was it. Yes, a ‘costermonger!’ Remarkable how the working classes occupy themselves, isn't it?” She says with almost childish glee. 

“Very industrious, I’m sure” Jacob says distractedly, trying to fend off a man in patchy clothing who just attempted to slyly pickpocket Jacob.  I chuckle and then slide down the wall and pull up my hood, turning a corner.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone where you are, miss.” and adorable little girl huddled underneath a passway whispers. I smile and surreptitiously slip her a shilling, silently thanking her. 

I catch up to Jacob and Mrs. Disraeli just as Mrs. Disraeli is asking “What sort of meat is that man selling?”

“We call ‘em bags o’ mystery ma’am because no man but the butcher knows what's in them.” I tell her.

“It must be something dreadful. Oh, is it rat?” She cries.

“I don’t mean to be indelicate, given the present company, but another name for it is ‘bow wow mutton’.” Jacob says and Mrs. Disraeli clutches Desmond closer. 

Finally, we reach our destination “Here we are” Jacob announces. “The One Tun Pub. Best Beer in the Devil's Acre.”

We purchase our drinks and sit at wooden table.

“So this is a pint is it?” Mrs. Disraeli takes a sip and gags delicately. “Remarkable” She coughs. I laugh because I know it tastes like piss smells, but it doesn’t bother Jacob or me. 

From the corner of my eye, by a decrepit building a thug is watching us with great interest, and I get up to investigate. When I turn the corner I am forcibly grabbed from behind and shoved up against the crumbling wall. 

“What’re you doin?” The thug says and I can’t answer because his beefy arm is pressed against my windpipe. He begins to search my clothing for money, but doesn't find anything as I only keep a few shillings on me at all times, hidden in my clothing. The rest I keep with Jacob or on the train. Call me paranoid but it has saved me in this instance. 

Or not. The thug is apparently angry that I’ve wasted his time and shoves me to the ground, pulling out his knife. I react quickly kicking him in the balls.It stuns him and I scramble up from the ground. He comes lunging at me with a sloppy punch and I duck easily. Then he tries to swipe at me with a large arc, but I catch his arm and twist it. The thug drops the knife and I grab it, plunging it through his chest. I hear the blood bubble up in his throat. I start to head back, cutting through a mud pit. Jacob is there, alone, holding Desmond, but his owner is nowhere to be found. 

“Jacob!” I try to keep the shaking out of my voice. “Where is Mrs. Disraeli?” 

Jacob gets this ‘Oh shit’ look in his eyes and races back to Mrs. Disraeli, who I hope is still breathing. Mrs. Disraeli is sitting at the table with a group of thugs. They all seem to be engrossed in a deep conversation.

“Well if you never told your father how you felt about him, how was he supposed to know?” She asks one. 

“I never thought about it that way.” The thug says “I guess deep down I just wanted to be loved.”

Jacob and I approach cautiously, wary for any warning signs. “Just so. Here, have a sweetie.” Mrs. Disraeli holds out the candy. 

Jacob sets Desmond on the table, catching Mrs. Disraeli’s attention. “Ah! Mr. Frye, Penny, I’d like you to meet…” She pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

“John the Tosser.” 

“Charmed. I think we should be getting home now.” Jacob says, suspicious of the thugs, and eager to get home. 

Jacob holds the door open for her and a group of thugs calls out to Jacob.

“If it isn’t the dog walker!”

“We need to get Mrs. Disraeli out of here!” I whisper urgently, and we get on the carriage, spurring the horses on. I see a glint of metal in the thug's hands, and realize it’s a gun. I snatch Jacob’s gun from it’s holster, firing off several rounds. We manage to lose them and arrive back at the safer part of town.

“Ta-ta Mr. Frye, Penny! We must do that again sometime.”

I look at Jacob in mutual agreement. No, we musn't.

* * *

That night, Charley is sleeping in a different room and I am curled up next to Jacob. 

“Shall we continue where we left off in the carriage?” He asks.

I nod in agreement and laugh. “You do owe me, after all.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am,,,,,,,,, afraid of writing smut.


	5. Darling, What a Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing: Mr. Maxwell Roth. A dark secret of Penny's past is revealed. 
> 
> Warning: Graphic violence!!! 
> 
> Note that this chapter contains both Penny's POV and an Omniscient POV

“What do you remember about mother?” Charley asks one day, catching me off guard. 

“She was a good woman.” I say simply, not wanting to elaborate. 

Charley looks at his feet, twisting his hands. “I’m sorry I killed her.” 

I look up from my work sharply and grab him by his shirt lapels. “Don’t. You didn’t. No one blames you for her death.”

“Papa does. It’s why I haven’t ever seen him!” Charley argues clenching his fists. “I hate him.” he says decidedly. 

“Papa… Papa doesn’t blame you Charley, he just doesn’t want to come home.” I try to tell him, but I can tell it doesn't convince him. Or me for that matter. 

“If I had never been born, mum would still be alive.” He whispers.

“Charley!” I yell forcefully and he looks up shocked at my outburst. I try to take a deep breath and calm my shaking voice, but to no avail.  I keep my eyes on the ground, afraid that if I look at Charley I might betray myself and begin to cry. “Charley. I need you to understand, the only thing that kept me alive growing up was you. I am glad that you are here with me, nothing will change that.

Charley sniffles once and buries his face in my clothing, hugging me tightly. 

“You cannot blame yourself for our mother’s death or papa’s actions.” I whisper to him, kissing him on the crown of his head. 

Jacob walks in at that very moment and looks at us both. Charley eventually lets go of me and sits next Jacob. 

Jacob sits there silently for a moment before saying “My mother passed away giving birth to Evie and I as well.”

Charley looks at him with large shimmering eyes. “Was your father angry with you?” 

“Not at all. He loved us all the same, knowing we had pieces of our mother in us.” Jacob pauses and looks up at me. “And, you know, I think your sister is the same way.”

“I can’t speak for your father” Jacob says ruffling Charley’s curls. “But, I think your mother would be thrilled she lucked out with such wonderful children.”

* * *

 

“Jacob, will you please open that letter? It’s gathering dust.” Evie points out.

Jacob and I have just returned from another mission, where I learned how to properly zipline. Well, learned might be a strong word. Jacob tells me I ‘might just get into the Brotherhood yet.’

Jacob sighs exasperatedly and saunters over to the letter, opening up the letter with exaggerated movements, keeping eye contact with Evie, who rolls her eyes.

Jacob scans the writing but I see his eyebrows shoot up and his eyes move across the words faster  and we realize it’s important.

“It’s an invite from Maxwell Roth.”

“The leader of the Blighters?” I say at the same time Evie speaks up. “You’re not going.” She states plainly.

“Of course not.” Jacob says but everyone on the train knows his word won’t be kept.

* * *

 

Enter Maxwell Roth, Theater Proprietor and notorious gang leader. Jacob enters the theater cautiously, consciously aware of the blatant fact he was walking into an enemy gang’s stronghold. 

“Come, sit.” Roth says, gesturing at an empty chair. He grabs some drinks and returns with them, pouring both of them glasses. “I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time. I find your heroics in battling the great Crawford Starrick quite magnificent.” 

Jacob takes a healthy gulp of Roth’s drink and speaks. “I’ve been picking off your soldiers one by one. Doesn’t that make you angry?” 

“On the contrary. Surprise is the spice of life. Now, Mr. Starrick, that’s a different story.” Roth says squinting his blue eyes past Jacob. “I’m drowing in directives” he says, putting his face very close to Jacob’s. “All terribly boring.” 

Roth pours another drink. “Let’s say we work together and bring him down?” 

Jacob laughs and grabs the drink Maxwell had just poured. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” 

“My friend, if I fail to provide you with the chance to cause Starrick some pain, well you can charge into this theatre and kill me yourself!” Roth announces.

Jacob looks at Roth suspiciously, barely waiting for Roth to finish his sentence. “What do YOU get out of all this?” 

Roth grins widely and spreads out his arms. “The chance to have a little fun with the bravest man in London!” he declares. 

And then, Jacob’s guard drops, and he looks to the side, almost bashful. He raises his half empty glass to Roth. “You have a deal.” He says gruffly. 

Roth laughs. “Lewis! My carriage!” he calls out. “Shall we?” 

Some time later, Jacob has managed to gain control of a train and finds a nearby conductor.

“Would you be so kind as to get up some steam?” Jacob asks, and the train conductor frightfully nods and starts it up. Jacob gets the train to Roth, where he jumps to the next platform. The conductor attempts to follow, but a Blighter yanks out a gun and points it at him. The conductor throws up his hands in surrender and gets back into the train. 

“Splendid! Starrick will be on his knees in no time. My hat is off to you.” He climbs up the train. “Apologies I must run. But do come see me again!” The train pulls away leaving behind Jacob in the rain and an innocent conductor in the hands of the Blighters. 

Later, back at the train, Jacob relays the information of his visit with the Blighters leader, and says he plans to return. Evie and Penny are inherently suspicious, but they remain silent. 

* * *

Just as the dusk is settling over London, I am out wandering. I’m very confused about the Maxwell Roth fellow. I’ve decide he has an obsession with Jacob, and I make plans to watch out for him.

It’s not spying, it’s just checking up on him. 

A child tugging at the bottom of my coat drags me out of my reverie. “A penny for a poor boy?” He asks desperately. Who I assume is his mother is standing close by holding an infant. 

For every poor person that makes it out of the slums, two more enter it. What made me so lucky? The most frustrating out of the whole thing was that I couldn't  _ do  _ anything about it. I had decided that in London, there were two sets of laws. One for the rich and one for the poor. The whole thing made me furious. Here I was, ‘liberating London’ but even if the Fryes succeeded in killing Mr. Starrick, there would still be mothers who couldn't afford to feed her children, or orphans who were thrown into jail for stealing money the rich didn't need. 

I realize I have wandered into the hellhole that is known to others as Whitechapel, home sweet home. I’m walking by one of the shabbier homes when I see a young woman, forced to her knees. There are thugs searching for money, just like they had searched me at Devil’s Acre.

Now that I have had some time to reflect upon it, what I did was the exact opposite of what I should have done. But they were harming an innocent woman, something that went against my creed. 

“Hey!” I shouted angrily, drawing their attention from the girl, who scrambled up and ran away. 

“Well, what do we have here.” One of the thugs asked his friend. “Seems some rich woman has lost her way.” 

I yank my pistol out of its holster and aim point blank at one of them. It hits him square in the head, by a stroke of luck. The other one is spurred on by his friend’s death and charges at me, before I have the time to draw my weapon.

He punches me in the face, and I feel pain bloom up. However, his rage makes him sloppy, but mine works in my advantage. I throw a smoke bomb to the ground and the casing breaks, sending up a thick fog. I run halfway up the nearby wall while he is slumped over coughing and kill him while his back is to me. The smoke clears and I stare dimly at their bodies. Jesus. How many was that now? How many lives had I taken in exchange for saving a few people? 

I wasn’t an alcoholic, but I needed a hard drink. 

I stumbled into a nearby tavern and slumped onto one of the stools. The owner brought over something that smelled foul, and to my shame, I drank it like it would be my last. Now, I don’t have the highest of tolerances and I could feel the alcohol doing it’s job. But instead of helping me forget the memories I was trying to quell, the alcohol opened the floodgate in my brain and I was consumed by the very memory I was trying to suppress. And, I could recall it with alarming clarity. 

_ I was a girl of twelve. I was trying to put my new baby brother to bed, but he was crying terribly loud. It was a miracle he hadn’t passed yet, and I wasn't sure how I was going to keep him from doing so. There was no food in this damned borough.  _

_ I leaned down to him. Charles, was what my mother wanted him christened. I preferred Charley. The baby looked like a Charley. When I grabbed his hand, he quieted and I whispered his name.  _

_ His tiny fingers grabbed my pointer finger and he looked at me, a serenity passing over his face. He had mother’s eyes, I realized.  _

_ “Hello Charley. My name is Penny. I’m your sister.” Charley gave a little hiccup. It seemed all my brother needed was human interaction. I remained like that, bent over him, talking to him for an hour. Eventually the two of us fell asleep, Charley still clutching to my finger. _

_ I was jolted awake by the sounds of my father’s drunken ramblings and heavy footsteps. I ran outside to warn him Charley was asleep, and to please quiet down if he would.  _

_ When I met him, he was very drunk. Drunker than I’d ever seen him. The gaslight hanging outside illuminated his face and made him look terribly old with gaunt shallows in his cheeks.  _

_ “Papa-” I began to speak, but he shoved me aside and I plummeted to the ground. _

_ “Where is the dammed thing?” My father practically growled. “The beast killed my wife. I want revenge.”  _

_ Horror filled me and I pushed myself up off the ground, grabbing at his coat.  _

_ “No papa!” I yelled, feverishly pulling him away from the brother I so desperately wanted to protect.  _

_ Unfortunately, a skinny runt of a girl was not a force big enough to distract my father and he ripped my hands off of his jacket and shoved me away from him. He shoved his face very close to mine and I could smell the acrid sweat and odor of the places he’d visited that evening.  _

_ “Girl. Do not stop me.” He said, like I was the bad one for trying to prevent him from exacting revenge on a baby. _

_ “Papa please!” I cry, looking around for something to stop him as he gets closer to Charley. Charley begins to cry again, very loudly, shrieks that make my ears ring. _

_ This only spurs my father on more and he leans down to grab Charley.  I grab the nearest object and run at him, plunging the object deep into my father’s back.  My father lets out a strangled gasp and falls to the ground, where I climb atop him and stab him several more times, knowing that if he got up again, neither of us were likely to make it out alive.  _

_ I’m not even aware of the tears that are falling down my face and the blood that mixes with the tears. It all feels hot and wet to me. Perhaps it was fear for Charley’s life that made me stab my father the first time, but as I continued, hot rage fueled my attack.  _

_ When I got up from my father’s body, he was still and my hands were coated in his blood. A dizzy feeling courses through me and I feel very faint. I fall to my knees and expel the food from my stomach all over our floor.  _

_ Once I have regained a coherent sense of myself, I realize that something must be done with the body. ‘The’ body I say, alreading removing my father from the horrid crime I have just committed.  _

_ When I was that young, my father had made enough money to purchase us a house with a floor. I peeled the floorboards back, carefully so as to put them back in their place when I was done. _

_ Every time I pulled them off, they’d make a sickening ‘crack’ noise that reminded me of my father’s ribs. When I had made a wide enough hole, I dropped the body in the crawlspace and put the floorboards back.  _

_ Then, I grabbed my baby brother and a few of our belongings and cleaned myself up. I then burned my clothing, leaving me with only one outfit. Charley and I moved into a small shack near the borders of Whitechapel, abandoning my childhood home, and fending for ourselves.  _

  
  



	6. Men Have Become Monsters

“-ney? Penny!” A voice breaks through my hazy mind. I crack an eyelid open but they seem awfully heavy and I end up shutting them again. A hand reaches for my shoulder and someone begins to shake it gently. 

Begrudgingly, I open my eyes again and see the concerned face of Jacob Frye staring down at my own. The night is still dark and I’m sitting up against a brick wall in Whitechapel, a few steps away from the tavern I was just in. 

Jacob is crouching down in front of me and I can’t help but reach out and grab his face, feeling his scruff beneath my fingers. He looks surprised at my sudden intrusion but doesn’t remove my hands, instead covering them with his own.

“You shouldn't be out here at night. It’s dangerous.” I inform him, still drunk. 

“Thank you for your concern love, but I don’t think you should be either.” he says with his trademark smirk. 

Sighing, I push myself up and dust off my clothing. “Then perhaps you should escort me home, Mr. Frye.” I reach for his arm and he actually does escort me, just like he did with Mrs. Disraeli. Even in my drunken state, I feel like quite the lady. 

“If only my father could see me now!” I say grinning. But he’s dead, buried under the floorboards of our house. Jacob doesn't know this however and I shouldn't have brought it up. 

“You really have no idea where your father might be?” he asks curiously. 

I quiet, realizing what I’ve just spoken out loud. I’m silent for several minutes with Jacob looking at me with the same concern from earlier. I can’t tell him. It could wreck everything I’ve built. 

“No.” I say simply, keeping my eyes to the dirty sidewalks. In my head, two sides are waging a war. Part of me knows I should tell Jacob and Charley because they’ve offered me their trust but the other half remains strongly convinced that a small lie is better than a harmful truth. Perhaps I will tell them eventually.

Even if I wanted to tell only Jacob the streets of Whitechapel is hardly the place to do so.

“Are you still working with Mr. Roth?” I ask

Jacob nods. “He knows exactly where to hit Starrick where it hurts. He’s been an asset.” Jacob assures me. 

I shake my head. I'm still very wary about Maxwell Roth’s exact intentions. “I just want to sleep.” I say, exhaustion lining my voice.

“I’m with you there love.” Jacob laughs. 

* * *

  
  


I pull myself up onto the train car and enter Evie’s car. She’s sitting on her chair, telling Charley stories about a man named ‘Altair Ibn-La’Ahad.’ Charley is listening intently. I wait for a pause in her storytelling.

“Do you know where Jacob is?” I question

Evie shakes her head. “He’s with Roth.”

“I don’t trust him.” I sigh.

“Nor do I. He has no agenda and acts completely of his free will. I worry for Jacob.” Evie confides. 

“I’ll go find him.” I tell Evie. My intent is to watch this Roth fellow very carefully and deduce exactly what he is capable of. 

Before leaving I kiss Charley on the head and firmly tell him to remain on the train.

Charley grabs my coat. “I was going to visit my friends today!” he protests. “I promise we’ll be careful.” he looks desperate to get out of the train and I almost feel bad for leaving him here all day long. 

But, my concern for his well being overpowers the guilt and I tell him I’ll bring something back for him later. He groans but it seems like he understands. 

I secure my weapons in the fabric of my clothing and make my way out, hoping I wouldn't have to use any of them. 

Thanks to my eagle vision, I trace Jacob back to a theater. A giant sign of the front reads the ‘Alhambra.’ I position myself up on  rooftop near the building so I can watch the side entrance. I pull my hood up as well, not wanting anyone to spot me. 

Activating my eagle vision again, I let it sweep over the music hall. I see several Blighters wandering around the building. I decide this hall must be Maxwell’s and by extension, a stronghold for the Blighters.

Finally, I spot who I was looking for. Jacob stops his carriage and jumps off, walking like he has no fears. The Blighters let him pass with no issue and Jacob tips his top hat at them. He reaches for the door knob at the side entrance but before he can actually pull the doors open, they fling open and Maxwell Roth exits. 

“Ah! This way, my dear!” He practically shouts at Jacob. “I’ve something to show you!” He points to his carriage and Jacob begins to follow him, stepping quickly, like both of them are eager to get to the location. 

Jacob climbs up and takes the reigns, stepping over Roth. “Where are we going?”

“One of Starrick’s workshops, where they build weapons for his army!” Roth announces pointing ahead. 

Hm. Perhaps Roth is genuinely trying to help Jacob. 

Jacob begins to drive quickly and I try to follow along, ziplining from rooftop to rooftop, never letting them out of my sight, but never getting too close. 

“When the world is full of nasty things, we must tear those things apart.” Roth shouts to Jacob. 

Roth’s voice is unusually gravelly, and almost every word he speaks comes out as a growl.

“A man like Starrick builds a world around his own desires, so we lose the ability to dream for ourselves. Therefore we must-” Roth almost finishes his sentence, but Jacob interrupts.

“Strike.” 

“Precisely, my dear.” Roth says, delighted. 

The way Roth acts around Jacob. Almost like he loves Jacob, as I love Jacob. Although I don’t blame Roth, I realize how possessive I am of Jacob. I hide behind the raised platform of a window so I can listen to their conversation.

“What a funk in here.” Jacob comments, looking over the building. 

“You must SEE the potential, dear Jacob. This workshop is one of Starrick’s! Set the dynamite and let’s blow it to atoms. Together!” 

Well, I think to myself, Jacob was very fond of massive explosions. But the off hand comment of Roth’s possessive ‘together’ comment only raises my suspicions. 

Jacob climbs down and begins to dispose of the people in the yard. But instead of outright killing them, he simply knocks them out, one by one, not actually killing anyone. Most of the people inside are dressed in Templar uniforms, but a few are dressed in the red gear of the Blighters. Maxwell is standing on the rooftop watching the yard and clasping his hands with glee. Just watching the man makes my heart speed up and I get a feeling of dread. 

After a bout of time, Jacob returns to the rooftop opposite to me. 

“All rigged up.” he tells Roth, almost like a puppy trying to please its owner. 

“Perfect! Let’s put this plan into action… Stand back!” Roth grunts at two Blighters on the ground in the alley way below.  “Ready…!” Roth shouts.

Suddenly, there’s a group of children that wander into the building and I look frantically at Jacob, almost losing my cover. 

“Wait!” Jacob shouts holding out a hand to Roth, but never looking away from the children. His voice full of desperation. 

“Whatever for?” Roth laughs

Jacob turns to Roth, his eyes betraying and emotion I’ve never seen in him before. Fear.

“There are children in there!”

Roth tisks “Jacob my dear, Starrick uses child labor to manufacture goods. We must put an end to his production line.” he says calmly.

“But not like this.” Jacob grits his teeth.

Roth looks around in disbelief. “Why not?” he shouts. “I can do whatever I damn well please!” he says like a child having a temper tantrum. 

Roth calms down, takes two steps, and swings back to look at Jacob. “Soon, you will learn what it is to be free. As I am.” Roth says jabbing a finger into his own chest. Roth steps to the edge of the roof and swings his arm. “Light ‘em up boys!” 

Jacob swiftly pulls out his kukri and lets out a heart wrenching cry of “No!” 

There is devastation in his voice. He’s been betrayed by someone he was just starting to call friend. Through all of Jacob's recklessness and immaturity, it showed he was a fundamentally good man. His desperation to get to the burning building was evident. 

I clambered down from my perch just as the building caught fire. Roth was just watching Jacob, disappointment written all over his scarred face. 

Maxwell Roth sees me run down the alley and he watches me run toward the building and I can feel his eyes sear into my soul, hotter then the flames in front of me. 

Jacob pushes himself through a burning window and I try to follow him, but just as I get close, a second explosion happens and I get flung onto my back.  There is a reverberating ringing in my ears and I try to push myself up onto my elbows.

In shock and horror, I realize my entire left leg, hip and a portion of my waist has been engulfed in the searing flames and is quickly burning away the fabric of my clothing. Desperately, I begin to roll in an attempt to extinguish the flames. 

Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, so I don’t feel the pain of my burns yet. My only thought is of getting to the poor children in Starrick’s factory. I can’t imagine the horror of losing a family member in a fire. I finally reach Jacob as he’s carrying out another child. The rest of the children are running away from the fire but one is struggling to get up. I run over and pick the child up by her armpits and she limps away, clutching at her shawl. 

Inside the building you can hear wooden beams cracking and popping as they fall to the ground. My stomach churns when my nose detects the smell of burning flesh. For a moment, I think the smell is coming from my own burns but I realize it’s coming from the child Jacob is carrying. 

The child’s clothing is badly burnt, his hair completely singed off. This child must have been closest to the blast, one Jacob couldn't reach quickly enough. He’s barely holding onto consciousness. I run over to see if I can help, but as Jacob gently puts the child onto the ground I began to sob, the salt in my tears burning my injuries. 

“Charley”  I cry hovering my fingers over his face. His mouth opens and closes and his fingers tremble like he’s trying to formulate words, but can’t.

“Charley?” I weep, begging him to hold onto consciousness. His charred fingers grab my wrist and he stares up at the sky. His eyes dart from Jacob and then to me.

“It hurts.” he almost mewls.

“Charley I know, I need you to stay here with me okay? We’ll fix this, you’re okay.” I say. I want to hug him, hold onto him, but I don’t want to touch his burns and hurt him.

“Penny.” Charley shuts his eyes and his grip from my wrist loosens. His arm falls to the ground as he loses consciousness.   
“No, no no no.” I whimper. “No, I can't lose you too. Please Charley.” 


	7. Underground

_Take a look round lively old London_  
_Buzzing crowds we sweat and we revel_  
_Red-cheeked shouts and songs_  
_In the flicker of the gaslight_  
  
_Eager Blighty bursts from the cobblestones_  
_Racing, climbing blooming fertility_  
_Born from secret seeds_  
_That were scattered in the nighttime_  
  
_London is fed upon the meat of the dead_  
_They're one shallow inch below the town_  
  
_Underground_  
_Underground_  
_Leave them underground_  
  
_Them that whispered dreams that only poisoned us_  
  
_Them that told us lies of their bravery_  
_Them that preached of progress, and put us in the poorhouse_  
  
_Them done horrid murder on bloody stages_  
_Them that loudly crowed their humility_  
_Lords and dames that sung in the chapels on a Sunday_  
  
_All quiet now._  
_Their mouths are stopped up by mud._  
_They lie flung in rags and make no sound._  
  
_Underground_  
_Underground_  
_Leave them underground_  
  
  
_Those who fought for something better_  
_Those who taught by how they lived_  
_Loved ones taken long before their work was done_  
  
_Underground_  
_Underground_  
_Leave them underground._

 

 

 

I remember gingerly picking up Charley’s body. I remember shuffling over to a cart Jacob had stopped. I remember climbing up into the back and clutching him as Jacob spurred the horses on. I remember straining to hear Charley’s breathing over the horse’s hoofs. And, I remember when Charley stilled in my arms, my little brother torn away from me. 

I wish I’d had more time with you Charley. I wish I’d told you about what happened to father. I wish I’d told you every single detail about mum when you asked. She smelled like fresh air, like she’d been standing in the sun all day while the wind blew the dust off her clothing. She’d hum to me when I got scared. She told terrible jokes. She taught me how to purify water from puddles so we’d always have something to drink. And she loved us both very, very much. Even papa was wonderful around her. I wish I had been a better sister to you, Charley.

All I can do now is exact revenge.

* * *

I’m perched above the Alhambra, looking over the crowd gathered here. Apparently, Mr. Roth is holding a play, called Corvus the Trickster. Posters have been set up all over London. It’s going to be a big show.

Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I catch a man moving swiftly and slyly through the throngs of masked attendees. It’s Jacob. He’s here for Roth.

Oh no no. Roth is mine. Quickly, I scan for an open window. There’s one at the far end of the building, My feet carry me to it. I hoist myself up but my wounds from the accident begin to burn. I try to push it out of my mind. I gather my bearings and sweep my eyes across the room, clutching the fabric away from me. It seems to be a sort of storage room. Crates of explosives are meticulously stacked up one on top of each other. I can’t do anything about the dynamite but just the sight of it makes me blind with rage.

I can still smell burnt flesh when I think about it.

I crouch into a stealth position and surreptitiously pull my hood up. I pull open the storage room door very gently, aware that if I get caught, it will ruin my chances of getting my revenge. I enter the hallway just in time to hear Roth’s first announcement.

“Mesdames et messieurs, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Alhambra music hall!” he says in his gravelly voice.

_ You can shove your welcome up you ass _ , I think bitterly.

“Tonight we have, for one night only, a very special performance of Corvus the Trickster! While some of the effects might be visceral and highly disturbing, do not be alarmed my good people. Fear not! This is the purest form of entertainment!”

The purest form of entertainment?  _ The purest form of entertainment? _

“Tonight’s performance immortalizes and is for the benefit of a young fellow very near and dear to my heart. Any concerns or complaints may be addressed to him, ha-ha! Jacob, dear boy, tonight is for you!”

So, Roth knows Jacob is here somewhere, but he doesn’t know I’m here. Perhaps I will get to Roth before Jacob does.

I remember a quote from one of Evie’s books.  _ Look like th’ innocent flower, but be the serpent under ‘t.  _

I finally reach the top floor of the stage. I can see a man against a target while a Blighter shoots point blanks at the man. Roth shouts threats at Jacob, telling him this man will die for him.

A direct shot a Jacob, something that goes against his creed. I know it hurts him.

There are decoys scattered about the Alhambra and I decide to wait until Roth shows himself before I step out of my cover. I dart three levels below, where I’m close to the backstage. Eventually, I spot Jacob again. He’s frustrated now, perhaps fueled by the same rage I am.

“Roth! Show yourself!” Jacob shouts, blowing his cover.

And Roth obliges. He steps out through the smoke and pulls off his mask. “Ha-ha! I hope you have enjoyed your evening, ladies and gentlemen! I know I have. Before our final act, I would like to toast all of you brave people who joined us tonight to celebrate life… and death.” 

My brow furrows as my brain tries to move faster, trying to figure out what Roth means, so I can guess his next move.

“Go on, toast them!” Roth shouts at two Blighters, standing on either side of him. They take a large sip of what I assume is alcohol and blow a large breath at their torches, effectively lighting the Alhambra on fire. 

My brain freezes as I suddenly can clearly recall the events of my brother’s death. I can feel the heat from the roaring fire on my face, the crackle of wood as it pops and burns. I can hear people screaming. I can smell people dying. 

That’s the thing about death. When someone has been ill for a very long time, death leaves a smell. It’s the stale smell of sickness, and a lingering scent of the remedies they tried to use. If someone dies in a fire it is a heavy smell, metallic and acrid. The smell is so heavy, it almost becomes a taste. However, whatever the cause of death, you can always smell the fear. It’s what scares me the most. It sets off an instinct inside you that makes you want to run away and hide, before you turn out like them too. It’s why when i’d walk by a sick house, I’d cover my nose and scurry away. The same thing is happening now. I want to run. But I also want to avenge my brother. 

I try to calm my buzzing brain, without inhaling the smoke. I hook the collar of my shirt over my nose in an attempt to ward off the smoke. My eyes are squinty and they dart around, trying to find Roth. But I find Jacob first. 

He’s standing over Roth on a rafter. I wonder if he might air assassinate him. I cough once and try to move forward. Jacob reaches up and slices a rope. The rope hooks onto one of Roth’s legs and pulls him upwards. Roth gasps and laughs as Jacob yanks him over the railing and stabs him violently once, ending his life.

No. Roth was mine. My brain screams for justice, and my lungs scream in pain. I’ve inhaled too much smoke and I know it. 

“Jacob!” I call out with as much force as I can muster. 

He sees me and runs over to me. He pulls me up with a look of shock and horror on his face, like he can’t believe we’ve gotten ourselves into this mess. I’m too desperate to get out of here, so I can’t be angry at him for killing Roth. We run over to to the end hallway, looking for an exit. But there’s large beams of wood blocking nearly every route of escape. 

A burning body falls from one of the rafters, screaming as he falls. And I can’t do it anymore. I slump to the ground. I feel Jacob’s hands curl around me as gently as possible and hear the familiar click and zip of his zipline. I bury my face into his Assassin robes. I can smell his sweat and fear on him too. His heart beats like a baby rook. He’s scared, just like I saw him when those children were stuck in that burning building.

“We’re going to be okay, love.” Jacob whispers to me. I said the same thing to Charley.

I don’t dare pull my face out of his jacket until I feel cold night wind at the nape of my neck. The Alhambra is completely engulfed in flames. It could have been me. It could have been Jacob. Thank god it wasn't.

Jacob and I stop and a grassy area where he puts me down and collapses next to me, his muscles exhausted, but his arms still wrapped around me tightly. His face is covered in a fine sheet of soot. I know mine is too, and there are small trails in it where my tears cut through the soot. Jacob buries his face into the crook of my neck and I hold him just as tightly, the burning Alhambra behind us.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I just wanted to let you know, I have another fic up. It's set shortly after the American Revolution and follows a female sage.


	8. For Those we Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny, Evie and Jacob prepare for the final showdown with Crawford Starrick. Jacob and Penny strengthen their relationship by going through some shit together. (Not literally thank god. ew.)

_ “Papa, please!” I cry out to my father. I look down to my hands and see that there is a knife in them. A knife I do not recall picking up. Something pushes me towards my father, a force I cannot control, and the knife plunges into his back. He drops to the floor and I shakily roll his limp body over.  _

_ Charley’s glassy eyes stare up at me.  _

_ “No, no no” I moan. My fault, my brain screams at me. My fault. The house catches fire and Charley’s body turns to ash, floating away into the air.  _

 

I jolt awake, throwing back my covers. My breathing is ragged. Jacob snorts a little and wraps his arm around my waist, never cracking an eye open. Jacob is cligny is his sleep and his unconscious mind always has to be touching me. I pry his fingers off of me and slide to the edge of the bed. I put my feet down to the hardwood, the cold feeling grounding me. I take several quick breaths and push my sweaty hair out of the way. 

“Love?” Jacob’s sleepy voice pulls me out of my reverie. He presses a kiss to my shoulder and pulls me closer to him, so that I’m practically sitting on his lap.

“I’m sorry” I apologize. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” I rub my hand down his thigh, hoping he’ll just fall back asleep. 

“Well now that I’m awake…” Jacob gets a cheeky grin on his face. “Perhaps we should enjoy the rest of the night?”

“Really? You have the stamina for a whole night?” I tease.

Jacob drops back on the pillows with a dramatic groan. “You wound me, darling.” He reaches for me again. 

Jacob, I must tell you something. Even when I am at the farthest depths of my very soul, you are very, very good at distracting me. 

I move over to straddle him, pulling up the hem of my nightgown. The sides of the fabric flare over my hips, barely covering the burn scars. It’s been months. And they still look terrible. I lean down to kiss him and he tugs at the fabric of my nightgown, trying to pull it up over my head.

Hastily I grab his wrists, stopping him. “Wait, Jacob. I’m… not comfortable with that.” I say, blushing furiously. I trusted Jacob, truly, I did. But I didn’t want him to think of me as hideous. 

He seems to know this already. “You’re beautiful. And I would bet all the Queen’s jewels that you look all the more fierce with the scars.” His voice gets husky. “And I do love you fierce.” 

“Jacob Frye, where do you get it from?” I laugh

His face turns serious and he reaches over to cup my cheek with his calloused hand. “Do whatever makes you most comfortable.”

Of all the things Jacob has said tonight, those words make me want to give myself to him more then anything else. I take a deep breath and pull the fabric over my head. Jacob is quiet for a few moments, gingerly running his fingertips over the tissue of my waist and hip. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. I shake my head. 

Jacob begins to place kisses starting just under my breast and working his way closer and closer to my womanhood. I stifle a gasp when I feel his hot breath on me, and I knead my fingers tightly in his hair, anticipating what is about to happen. 

I give myself to Jacob that night, and he gives himself to me, like we have many times before. But this time, it was more. I had given him everything I had, and so had he.

* * *

 

Happy blissful moments never last very long, do they? 

Things around the train had recently been very tense on the train. We had found out that Starrick was planning on attending the Queen’s ball and then taking the Piece of Eden Evie has been tirelessly looking for. Evie and Jacob had gotten into a fight. They said they wouldn't be working together anymore. I tried to keep my relationship with Evie as strong as it was with Jacob, but the task seemed more difficult than I had originally expected.

All of this boiled down to one hell of a fight. I hoped we’d all make it out okay. 

Another issue we had recently realized was the fact that Jacob and Evie had no invitations to the Queen’s ball. So, who better to call over then the bloody prime minister’s wife? 

Mrs. Disraeli arrived with her husband in tow. Jacob and Evie stood straight up, acting as if everything was brilliant. Both of them had plastered smiles on their faces. 

“Such an unexpected delight to visit you both! What is the ‘news’ on the street?” Mrs. Disraeli asked, winking at Jacob and I. Jacob shifted uncomfortably and I raised my eyebrows at him. Luckily, Evie interrupted. 

“Mrs. Disraeli.” Evie began, trying to keep composure but also trying to let the Disraelis understand the gravity of the situation. “We have discovered something inside Buckingham Palace that could threaten the--” 

Jacob raised a hand at Evie. She bristled at his sudden interruption and I nudged him in the ribs. 

“What my sister is failing to say, is that we require entrance into the ball tonight.” Jacob stated, leaning towards Mrs. Disraeli like he was sharing a special secret. 

She laughed incredulously “Impossible! Even if there were any invitation cards remaining, which there are not, someone of your lowly station…”

Prime Minister Disraeli suddenly interrupted. This was the first time I’d ever heard him speak. 

“If that damn fool Gladstone is attending this evening, they can have my card.” 

I liked him. 

Jacob separated his hands in a  _ ‘problem solved’ _ fashion “Perfect. I can go alone.” 

What? Absolutely not. Not after everything I’d been through to get here. He was not leaving Evie and I behind. I was about to vocalise my protests, but Evie stepped in again. She was still miraculously keeping her cool.

“Mrs. Disraeli. If you would be kind enough to inform my darling brother of the Gladstones’ residence, perhaps he could use his considerable skills to commandeer the cards.”

“What fun! Did you hear that Dizzy? We’re going to ‘pinch’ the Gladstones’ invitations!” Mrs. Disraeli giggled childishly. 

Jacob lowered his voice to a barely audible gruff whisper. “Thank you for volunteering me, sweet sister.”

Evie gave him a tantalizing smile. “Oh, a pleasure brother dearest. Now, Mrs. Disraeli, if you will excuse me, I must visit with the Maharajah. It occurs to me that he might have a second set of plans to a certain  vault.”

Right, the secret vault under Buckingham Palace that could quite possibly kill us all. What a wonderful mess we’ve dug ourselves into.  

As soon as Evie exits the train, Jacob immediately begins to complain. “The nerve of Evie. Treating me like a child.”

“She just wants things to go… as smoothly as possible tonight.” I try to console him.

He sighs. “I know she does. I do too. Its that she can’t trust me enough to do something right! Ever since Roth-” Jacob stops short and glances at his feet. “I didn’t mean to bring up the past.” 

Perhaps this is the moment to tell Jacob about my father. A sort of redemption for not telling Charley. 

But Jacob begins to speak again and I lose the sliver of courage I had built up to tell him. 

“Once I get the invitations, I’ll have to get a carriage for the ball as well.” he muses. 

“Could I come as well? I believe you and Evie have trained me well enough and I’m sure I could-” I blurt out. 

“No.” he says softly, but there’s an underlying firmness to his tone. 

“Why not? I can handle myself! You complain about Evie treating you like a child and here you do the same to me!” I yell angrily at him. “You took Roth away from me. You will not take Starrick away from me as well!” Hot tears fill up my eyes and I refuse to let them fall, fixing my eyes to the ceiling. 

“I will not lose you too! I promised to protect Charley and I couldn’t. I’ll be damned if I can’t protect you too.” he shouts. 

Suddenly, I realize that Charley’s death has hit Jacob harder than I originally thought. An uncomfortable feeling of guilt fills my gut as I realize how alone Jacob must feel at the moment. Evie and I against him. Roth dead. Charley dead. 

“I’m sorry.” I apologize. We sit in silence for a few seconds and I try to formulate what I could possibly say to fix this. No matter how much I try to reform a life without Charley, my brother won’t leave my thoughts. Or my heart. 

Now’s the time to tell him, my brain screams. Tell him now!

“Jacob, regarding my father, he isn’t missing.” I blurt out, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I killed him.”

Jacob is quiet, waiting for me to continue. Explanation! My brain screams. Give him an explanation you dimwit! 

“My mother died in childbirth, as you know, giving birth to Charley. My father was furious he’d lost his wife and demanded vengeance. On Charley.  To my father, the only way death was paid was if another life was given in return. He tried to kill Charley. I stopped him. Charley never knew. He’d hate me for it.” 

“Your father’s death is not your burden to bear.” he says simply. My shoulders relax. 

“You don’t hate me?” I say in disbelief.

“Love, have you forgotten what I do for a living?” he snorts. 

“But your creed goes against the killing of innocents.” I remind him.

“Was your father innocent?” Jacob asks. He’s right. He wasn’t.  That night wasn’t the first night my father had acted violently towards us. Some nights, he’d beat my mother publicly and no one would intervene. Something about ‘not wanting to get caught up in one’s marital differences.’

But I push those thoughts out of my head. I’m not in Whitechapel anymore. I don’t have to worry about my father, Rexford Kaylock, Maxwell Roth… nobody except for Jacob. All of the years of guilt I’ve carried over my father’s death have all but dissipated. 

He pats the seat next to him “C’mere.”

I curl into his chest, replicating the form I had when we were outside the Alhambra, breathing in the comforting smell of him. He presses a kiss to my forehead and rubs small circles on my lower back. 

“Would you like to help me steal the Gladstones’ carriage?” he asks.

I look up at him with a small smile on my lips. “I’d love to.”   
  


_ Dear Charley, _

 

_ Hello. It’s me. Your sister.  You asked me once about our mother, and I didn’t tell you about her as I should have. I guess I’ll tell you now. Yes, I know, I have terrible timing. Since we didn’t have lots of money, I wore rags. But everyday, diligently, Mama would pick a flower and stick it in my hair. When that flower was tucked in, I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. When I’d get home and my shoulders ached, she always rubbed my shoulders even though her hands ached as well from the long days at the factory. When she was pregnant with you, she’d sing a lullaby to you every night. We didn’t have much, but as long as Mum was around, I felt like I could do anything. _

_ When you were born, you provided the same feeling for me.  _

_ Now, I can already hear you teasing me, Charley, but I think I get that feeling from Jacob now. He’s a wonderful person and I’m glad you were able to meet him. I love you. _

  
_ Penny  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so with Penny's and Jacob's relationship I really wanted it to feel relatively realistic, so I had them get into some fights and whatnot. But I think it made them stronger. Also two more chapters to go! The next two chapters will be titled as follows  
> -I Would Have Created a Paradise  
> -Family 
> 
> After that, if anyone is interested, I'll add a second part that follows the Jack the Ripper story line. Thank you all so much for reading!!!


	9. I Would Have Created a Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawford Starrick is goin' down.

 

“Jaysus.” I grunt, tugging on Evie’s corset. “Are you sure I’m not killing you?” 

“Perhaps we should reconsider this endeavor.” Evie tries to joke, but her laugh gets caught somewhere in that infernal contraption upper class women call ‘fashion.’ 

Satisfied with my work I step back. Evie gives me a half smile. “I don’t believe I can walk.” she tells me. She waddles a few steps forward to demonstrate.

“How are you supposed to kill Crawford in that?” I remind her. She gestures to a bag. In it is her weapons, hidden blade, and Assassin robe. 

I lug the bag outside to wait for Jacob and Evie follows as best she can. Thankfully the carriage doesn’t take long to arrive.

“Of course he’d arrive in that.” Evie mutters with her arms crossed. The door opens and Frederick Abberline and Jacob step out. 

“Mr. Abberline.” I greet.

“Mrs. Frye” he greets back, to which Jacob replies with a harsh nudge. I have to stifle a giggle. 

“Miss Devitt, actually.” I correct him.

“Hand him your weapons. We must enter unarmed” Jacob tells Evie. I heave up Evie’s bag and shove it into Freddy’s arms. 

Before Evie enters the carriage I grab her wrist. “Please be careful.” I whisper to her and she gives me a hug.

The carriage leaves and I rub my arms in the cool night air. I gesture towards the train and Mr. Abberline follows me. 

Henry is already in the train, pacing. I offer Freddy some tea and beg him to give me all the details regarding the Queen’s ball. 

“I can’t tell you much. I’m not entirely sure what the Fryes are planning, either.” Freddy finishes his tea and places it on Evie’s desk. “I really must be going.”

“Of course. Good luck PC Abberline.” I watch as he enters a carriage a drives off. Dammit that's the third person I’ve watched go tonight. And I can’t help. 

An hour passes. And then another. I’m walking in circles, mentally and physically. Henry sits on the couch, clutching his hands together, elbows on his knees. 

“Do you think they’re all right?” I ask.

“I’m sure they are, Miss Devitt.” he replies.

“We should help.” I tell him. 

“I don’t think they’d appreciate our intrusion.” he says. 

“Dammit.” I mutter under my breath. I know Jacob doesn’t want me there because he wants to protect me, but the thing is, I want to protect him as well. 

Henry reaches down to pull out a book. He’s remarkably calm. But then I see his leg bouncing slightly and I know he’s just as worried as I am. I exit the train car and follow it to the very back, watching the train tracks disappear under my feet. I check to see if Mr. Green is looking at me. He isn’t.

That’s it. I’m going out.

Luckily, unlike Evie, I have the freedom of movement. Unluckily, I don’t look like I would be a guest at this ball. It will be a challenge infiltrating the ball. As soon as I hit the Westminster borough, I feel out of place. When I reach Buckingham, the feeling increases tenfold. When I walk by the gates, I see a Royal Guard tighten his grip on his weapon. 

I spend a fair bit of time circling the courtyard, observing the guards’ shifts. When there is a break between the two groups of guards, I make a dash towards the palace. I make sure to scale a wall facing away from the party. 

I pull myself through an open window, and drop to my feet silently.  There is a man there, playing a piano who jumps to his feet when he sees me, the music abruptly stopping.

“Uh. Hallo.” I say. “I don’t believe I have the right room…” I bluff. The man doesn’t buy it and begins to run for the door. Simply to get away from me, or to warn the guards, I don’t know. 

I grab his shoulder. “Wait! Truly, I was lost. I am a guest of Mrs. Disraeli.” I say with as much dignity as I can muster, hoping the man will buy it. He does, but not in the way I’d hoped. 

“Oh, my apologies Ms! Allow me to escort you to her.” His demeanor changes and he holds out his arm for me. 

Oh shit. This is not going the way I’d hoped. 

“Oh, that’s quite alright, I’m sure I can find her myself.” I say weakly.

“Nonsense!” He cries “What kind of gentleman would I be to leave an esteemed guest of Mrs. Disraeli alone?”

Begrudgingly I allow myself to be escorted downstairs and to the main crowd. “Mrs. Disraeli!” the man calls out when we get close.

She turns to face me. “Penny! What an unexpected delight! I wasn’t aware you were coming. Else I would have arranged for... different attire.”

“That’s quite alright” I tell Mrs. Disraeli hurriedly. Either she knew I was bluffing but came through or just assumed I’d come with the twins. Either way, I was in the clear. I turn to the man who escorted me here. “Thank you sir.” He nods and smiles as if he’s just given me a huge favor and walks off.

Mrs. Disraeli starts to tell me something but her words are drowned out when I spot someone. Crawford Starrick, making his way across the courtyard towards a clearing of trees.

“I really must be going.” I excuse myself. I duck behind several trees on the way, being careful not to get caught. Starrick is clutching something in his hands. When I squint, I realize it’s a key. They key to the vault. Shit! Crawford has the key! 

  
I creep behind him carefully, hoping to remain silent as I watch him open the vault. Evie and Jacob are nowhere in sight. I have to move, or else Crawford will get the shroud. I can’t let that happen. I remain a fair distance away from him. So far, I don't see the shroud anywhere. How ironic would it be if the shroud never existed in the first place?

Crawford walks to the end of the vast room and stops at what looks like an altar. Too late, I realize the shroud is encased within, and I begin to run at him, all sensible plans escaping through my noggin. 

He turns at me just as I pull out my knife and I stab it into his chest. But I soon realize my wound has had no effect, and I watch him heal immediately. Starrick shoves me roughly to the ground and my head hits the stone floor painfully. He curls both hands around my neck and my legs begin to flail beneath him.

“You must be Jacob’s little plaything.” he sneers at me. “I’ve been waiting so very long to meet you. To finally get my vengeance for Pearl.” Starrick sighs happily. “Thank you for allowing me this opportunity.” 

From the corner of my dimming vision, I see Jacob. I try to choke out a warning to him, but Jacob doesn’t stop. He begins to attack Starrick more ferociously than I’ve ever seen before. Hit after hit, but Starrick heals after every one. 

“I warned you my boy!” Starrick shouts “But you wouldn’t listen!” Starrick flings his hand to the side and a burst of energy shoves me back. My whole body tingles and I can’t seem to move. Starrick grabs Jacob by the neck. What is it with Starrick and choking?

And then, my messiah. Evie enters the vault in all her cane-sword splendor. Every time Starrick shoves a twin back, the other gets up. It’s exhausting to watch. 

Jacob crawls towards me. “Penny?”

“I’m fine!” I tell him. “Go get Starrick!” 

He gets back up and charges towards the bastard. Evie does too. 

Starrick grabs both twins by their necks. “Get. Out. Of. My. City.”  he grunts angrily. 

Suddenly, Starrick flinches as a throwing knife is lodged into his back. It’s Henry. Outraged, Starrick throws the same bolt of energy at Henry, who gets flung back. Jacob charges at him with renewed vigor. “Starrick! Your reign is nearly over!” Jacob punctuates every word with a parry. 

“It has barely begun” Starrick snarls back. 

“The shroud will not protect you!” Evie shouts at him, delivering heavy blows to his face. “Jacob!”

Working together, the twins slice the damned thing off of Starrick, and with a unanimous killing blow, Starrick’s reign is over. Months of planning has all led to this. 

Starrick falls to the ground, lifeless. 

Evie rushes over to tend to Henry. I grunt as the tingling feeling subsides and I push myself to my knees. “Jacob.”

He runs over and leans down, clasping my hand.

“You protected me.” I whisper.  
“We protected each other.” He says, planting a kiss to my forehead.


	10. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys! We finished it! (Unless we count the upcoming part 2, Jack the Ripper) Thank you all so much for reading this little fic! It means the world to me that people enjoy it :)
> 
> Special thanks to xxBARCELONALION510xx for always commenting and reading every chapter!

A white carriage pulls up to where we are standing. It is driven by our very own Freddy Abberline. The Queen’s insignia is emblazoned on the side. I wonder why she’s taken a carriage, when Evie, Henry, Jacob and I have already taken the liberty to traveling to Buckingham Palace. But who am I to meddle in the affairs of royalty. 

Jacob is the first to step up to the carriage, grinning happily in a  _ ‘can you believe this is happening? _ ’ sort of way. “A carriage! Nicely done Freddy.”

The door opens, and out pops the bloody Queen of England. She stands primly, and holds out a pearly white hand. “Mr. Abberline, please.”

“Your majesty.” Evie greets with a small smile as Queen Vicky steps out of the carriage.”Miss Frye.” she replies.

Jacob turns to Evie with a delighted smile of surprise “You’ve met before?”

“Didn’t I mention?” Evie says casually, like most people got to meet the Queen several times.

“Mr. Abberline informs me that the four of you are responsible for saving my life. Is this true?” The Queen asks in a pitchy voice that grates in my ears. Yet it’s still distinctly regal. What an odd combination.

Yes, and all of London. Possibly all of England, really. Not to gloat.

“It is. Your majesty.” Henry finally answers for all of us. 

“Evie Frye, step forward.” The Queen announces. “And you.” she looks at Jacob.

“My brother, Jacob Frye. And this is Mr. Henry Green and Miss Penny Devitt.” Evie introduces us. Being referred to formally is still relatively foreign, I must admit.  I watch Henry’s movements and follow him when he steps forward. I don’t want to look like a damn fool in front of the bloody Queen. 

“Mr. Frye. Mr. Green. Miss Devitt” The queen says all of our names, punctuated by a nod of her head. “Kneel.” 

We do, and the Queen holds a sword in her hands.  _ Oh no, she’s going to kill us. _ I try to get up to my feet and struggle away, but Jacob’s hand clamps down on my wrist. He gives me a serene look that tells me it’s probably not as bad as I think it is, so I return to my spot. 

The Queen taps the sword once on all of our shoulders and I flinch when the cold metal touches a sliver of my unclothed skin. She finishes and returns the sword to a man waiting nearby. 

“Arise.” She announces. “I invest you all in the Order of the Sacred Garter.”

I’ll ask Jacob what that means exactly later. 

After exchanging some words, the Queen and her huge bustle shove themselves in the carriage. 

“Dame Evie Frye.” Jacob says, testing the words out.

“Sir Jacob Frye.” Evie replies, nudging him gently.

“Race you to the train.” Jacob challenges. 

“You’re on.” Evie crows, and with that, Henry and I are left in the dust. He sighs and offers me his arm.

“Come now, Mr. Green, don’t you want to race me?” I tease.

He shakes his head. “Truly, I can see how you and Jacob are meant for each other.”

* * *

 

“I don’t know how we’ll get along without you” I tell Evie, shoving clothing into her suitcase. 

“I’m sure London is safe in your hands” Evie laughs. After she and Henry were married, they’d decided to move to India and work in the Brotherhood there. Leaving Jacob and I to run London. Not to mention a large portion of the English Brotherhood.

No rest for the weary, right?

I shut the clasps on her case. “I think you may be overestimating my capabilities for maintaining the biggest city in the world.” 

As we all make our way to the train station, Jacob is unusually quiet. I know it must be hard for him to let his twin go. I reach out and clasp his hand tightly, giving it a comforting squeeze. 

Henry loads the suitcases up and I pull him into a big hug. “Take care of yourself, Jayadeep.” I tell him. He turns to take his seat but Jacob pulls him into a hug too. 

“Take care of my sister for me Greenie.” he says.

Henry laughs. “I imagine it will be her taking care of me.”

Evie grins “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”  She pulls me into a hug. “Do come visit” 

“I will.” I promise.

Jacob and I watch the train pull away and I wave and wave until the train is nothing but a dot in the distance.

We leave Whitechapel station and walk silently along the cobblestones. Our relationship is one where we no longer feel like we have to fill in conversation. We just enjoy one another’s company.

“Lambeth Asylum faces neglect and abuse accusations!” A newspaper boy drones “Scotland Yard and Parliament make no attempts to investigate!” he crows, waving the paper back and forth like a white flag.

“Shall we?” Jacob asks. I nod.

We take a carriage. The dark looming building seems unnervingly large and looming. I promised myself I’d never step foot in this place. I was worried I’d never come out. 

“Last time I was here was when I assassinated Dr. Elliotson. He worked for Starrick.” Jacob stares and the tightly sealed building.

I clamber up the wall, grabbing on tightly to window sills and pulling myself up. The whole place smells of rot and unwashed bodies. I crinkle my nose in a feeble attempt to ward off the stench. I pass by several open rooms. A single cot with a thin mattress and a dim light is generally the only furniture I spot.

I eventually come to a locked door. I hear soft muffled crying emanating from the other side. I wave Jacob over and lockpick the door, gently swinging it open. The crying gets progressively sharper as the person tries to stop sobbing but can’t.

They’re huddled up in the dark corner, and I wait for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. It’s a small boy, curled up in the fetal position. My heart almost stops. The child is a striking image of Charley. The same messy, careless curls. The same dark shimmering eyes. But I can see the mistreatment of the Asylum all over his face and body.

His face is grubby and he looks unwashed. He almost looks… feral. His hands are covered in angry welts, leaking puss. I presume they were made by someone slapping his hands repeatedly until the skin broke.

“Jacob” I half-whisper, so as not to alarm the boy. “I need your medicine.”

He gets it out and tosses it to me. “Get the children out of here.” I beg him. He nods curtly and takes off.

“You’re okay now.” I tell the boy in the most soothing voice I can muster. I pull out some water from my pack and douse a cloth in the liquid. I begin cleaning off the grime so I can see where the injuries are at their worst.

When the boy finally speaks, I almost jump, after working in silence for so long. “You’re Charley’s sister.” he mutters. 

“Charley?” I look up sharply. I can’t quite formulate a coherent sentence. Words have failed me. 

“We would play together at Babylon Alley.” he says quietly. I look the boy over again. Now that the grime has been washed off, the boy looks normal. Sweet. He reminds me of Charley.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Jack.” he says. 

“Jack.” I repeat. I reach out and ruffle his hair, like I used to with Charley, and Jack cracks a small smile.

* * *

 

Jacob and I are back at the train. We freed several children, sending them to Clara and some Rook safehouses. I hope they’ll be safe there. 

But I took Jack back with us. He’s sleeping now, a serene look settling over his face. I brush out a loose strand of hair out of his face. He’s curled up in the same fetal position, his head in my lap.

“You look good with children.” Jacob gently shifts his weight on the bed. 

“Maybe we should have some.” I say, stroking Jack’s hair. Jacob looks away, and I wonder if I’ve gone to far. 

“I have something for you.” Jacob gets up and walks to the next car. As gently as I possibly can, I lift Jack’s head and place it on the pillow, tiptoeing out of the room. 

Jacob is holding a wooden box with the Assassin’s symbol carved in the lid. Nestled inside is a beautiful gauntlet, with leather accents and a sturdy blade. 

“Welcome to the Brotherhood” Jacob says grinning widely. “I got permission to induct you.” 

I let out an unflattering squeal and hug him. 

“Oh, and another thing that goes with the hidden blade” Jacob reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring. He steps down on one knee. My heart stalls a beat and then begins beating so fast I can feel my temple pulsate.

The ring is beautiful. Instead of fancy jewels or precious metals, Jacob had melted a single penny down into a ring. 

“It’s beautiful.” I breath, smiling widely. 

“I tried to wait a little longer so I wouldn't overshadow Evie’s wedding, but truth is, I can’t wait.” Jacob says, almost bashfully. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?” he says this part quickly, the words melding together like he can’t hold them in anymore. And I accept. 

Later, I write to Evie. I tell her about everything.  _ We’re family now _ , I write.

I received a letter several weeks later.  _ We were always family.  _  
And looking around, I know she’s right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I originally named Charley "Jack." Then I remembered the Ripper.


End file.
